


Pussy Cat

by LaCidiana



Category: Askewniverse, Clerks. (1994)
Genre: Backstory, Cats, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-12
Updated: 2011-08-12
Packaged: 2017-10-22 14:50:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/239228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaCidiana/pseuds/LaCidiana
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something strange shows up in front of the QuickStop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pussy Cat

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted in September 2006. (Holy shit!) Original A/N: "I asked my friend for a prompt to practice Askewniverse characters to see who I felt comfortable RPing, and what were supposed to be separate events turned into some weird, pointless fic." This statement still holds true today. Enjoy!

"Shit to the hammer, fuck it in the slammer, yo _bitches!_ " A shitfaced voice called out in Leonardo's early morning, hands outstretched and fingers crossed in a way that would have undoubtedly gotten him killed in worse parts of the country had he not looked so utterly ridiculous. "Pussy-taker is back in town and ready to shmoke some weed with all the fine ass in the fucking _WORLD! YEAH!"_

The sun was just beginning to rise. The odd cricket chirped. Silent Bob inhaled on his cigarette as Jay whirled back on him.

"Shit, man, get no _respect_ in this fucking town, inbred fucks." He turned back to the dawning day. "Only'd give me their pussy if I was their _cousin!_ That shit is fucked up, man..."

A strange, small mewling noise came from behind the disoriented dealer. Jay's face twisted as he shook his head and looked back to Bob.

"What the hell do you think, you're gonna lure me to your cock with noises like that, you fucking fag?" He shoved his friend's shoulder and spat on the ground. "Don't want none o' _that_ shit.."

Silent Bob arched an eyebrow as he shook his head, nodding towards the ground. Jay's eyes followed his reference until they found a small, cardboard box just in front of the entrance to RST Video, and his face lit up with sudden realization.

"Man, you went and got some blunts while I wasn't looking, you sly fuck? _YEAH!_ Party tiiime for the ladies!" Jay knelt down and ripped the lid off of the thing, his face staying content for a moment before it dropped and he stumbled backwards.

" _Fuck_ , man, that shit ain't funny." The stoner grabbed his hetero lifemate's arm and made a wide gesture towards the box's contents. "When I say pussy, I mean _pussy_ pussy, not... _pussy_ pussy!"

Jay threw down Bob's arm and the silent of the two rolled his eyes, waving his friend off as he began to walk away.

"Hey, man, where the shit are you goin'?" Jay called after him as he began to follow him down the road. "Hey! _Hey_ , you fat _fuck!_ "

\---

At approximately an hour past opening time, Randall Graves parked in front of the horde of angry customers who had gathered in front of the video rental store. With a sense of unwarranted persecution and tragedy hanging over his head, the clerk shook his head and bit open another piece of gum before stepping out of his car. Once again, the consequences of his inevitable lateness would be blamed on his lack of moral character when the whole fiasco could be avoided by a fucking video drop.

Bunch of savages in this town... Not to mention a cheap boss to go along with them.

Randall exited his car, closing the door as he took stock of the situation, joining the tail-end of the impromptu congregation and trying to look over people's shoulders to see what the big deal was about. Honestly, the things people would do to get the crap movies that came out nowadays. He swore, if all these people were there to pick up the newest Land Before Time for their drooling, fatass brat children, he'd fucking close the store down for a week.

"What the hell's goin' on around here?" The clerk arched an eyebrow, directing his question at the customer beside him without actually making eye contact.

"Well, see," said the customer, an annoying woman by the sound of it, "I was here to pick up Land Before Time II for my daughter when-"

"All right," Randall rolled his eyes before shoving through the group of customers. "Get out of my way, people! Store representative coming through! Out!"

At the angry murmurs and slightly angrier yells that erupted, Randall stood in the doorway of RST, bracing his arm against the inside of the door frame as he made his announcement.

"Okay, okay!" He said, bringing up his hands in a motion to quiet the group down. "Store's closed down today!"

"What!" A man wearing a WORLD'S BEST DAD shirt exclaimed. "Why?"

"See," the clerk began, "turns out that each unit for the new Land Before Time shipment that was supposed to come in today was individually rigged with a little bomb that would go off in your precious tot's face as soon as they got past the fifty percent marker on the analog."

The wide-eyed and gesture-filled theatrics that Randall pulled didn't seem to enlighten the idiots much. The clerk rolled his eyes.

"It's a method of cleansing the human genome of those who would breed to make babies stupid enough to enjoy retarded shit like that."

It wasn't until Randall picked up the shipment box on his doorstep and brought it inside that the crowd finally reacted with shouts of anger, and by that point, he'd already been able to lock the door from the inside and sit down at the counter.

He thought that pretty much proved his point.

The clerk leaned back with his feet up on the counter, turning on whatever shit movie the last store employee had left in the VCR. It took him a few seconds of cursing the asshole who'd left the tape in the credits without remembering to rewind when he realized he wasn't alone.

...Was that an _animal_?

Randall clicked "off" on the greasy, communal remote control before vaulting over the counter and landing next to the box that he had thought was the shipment of that godawful children's movie. Upon closer inspection, the top wasn't taped down, and upon lifting the lid _off._..

The clerk put it right back down again, eyes wide and gum sitting with a stale taste between his cheek and his teeth. He stood up slowly, steps soft as he made his way to the door and double-checked that whatever moronic parents had been there before had pretty much dissipated now.

He unlocked the door, dropping the keys in his pocket and nudging it open as he picked up the box. His eyes darted down the street and up, and it was with a forced saunter that he made his way to the front door of the locked-up QuickStop and gently rested his cargo in front of it.

He walked back to RST, halfheartedly flipping the CLOSED sign back to OPEN. Sacrifices had to made for the good of Randallkind, he supposed. The clerk hopped back over the counter, sitting next to the register as he grabbed the phone and dialed a very familiar number.

"Hey, man," he chuckled slightly, scratching between his cap and the back of his ear. "Sorry to tell you this, but the boss told me to let you know that you've got to come in today after all..."

\---

When Dante parked in front of the QuickStop's closed doors, it was with a reasonable amount of trepidation. The boss would have only called him in on this, the QuickStop's single closed date of the month, if something had gone terribly wrong. He was a little confused by Randall's lacking explanation, but then again, knowing the RST's irresponsible clerk, he could either be severely downplaying or overplaying the situation.

Dammit. He'd been in the middle of a call with Veronica, which he'd lost when he'd tried to switch back from the bearer of bad news. Dante sighed as he exited the car, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hand. That'd take a good amount of explaining once he got home, which might not be for a while, from the look of it.

Practiced paces were made to the metal shutters of the store's windows, then to the front door. It wasn't until Dante's foot hit something cardboard and hollow that he tripped, and it wasn't until he tumbled face-forward that he heard a worried mewl and realized why it would be a better idea to hit the concrete instead of the box that was suddenly beneath him.

The sidewalk was hard. And rough. The clerk's breath hissed between his teeth as he slowly pulled himself onto his side, and he audibly cursed when his now-skinned knee brushed the fabric on the inside of his pants.

Part of him was telling him he was being a baby. Another part of him knew the other part was really Randall.

"What are you, some big baby?" A merciless laugh came from some miles above him. Dante squinted murder at face made blurry by the noon sun.

"At least I'm not an ass," he growled, and it took a second for the mocking voice's owner to outstretch a hand. Dante rolled his eyes and slapped his palm on the other man's wrist, and pain was pretty much the only other expression he could make as he rested his back against the QuickStop's closed doorway.

He breathed a few times, eyes closed. He opened one eye to see Randall knelt down in front of the box and sticking a finger out at its contents.

The thing mewled out of something that Dante was quite convinced was mortal fear. Randall beamed one of his usual, half-sinister smiles up at his friend.

"I think he likes you!"

"Given his choices right now, I wouldn't be surprised." Dante managed to ignore the pain long enough to snatch the box away from the poor kitten's tormentor, and peered inside the thing to find...

...the simultaneously cutest and stinkiest thing he'd ever seen.

"Yeah," Randall chuckled as Dante attempted to juggle the box and his keys. "Stinky little guy, ain't he?"

" _Very_ ," Dante responded, his hand finding the lock and pulling it open. He stepped inside the convenient store and was a little disgusted with himself when he was able to find the exact spot between the register and the candy in the dark. He staggered over to the light switch and turned it on before finding his usual spot behind the counter.

He sat down next to the porno stand.

He sighed.

"Who the _hell_ ," he muttered as he groped blindly for the cheap first aid kits they had next to the cigarettes, "has the presence of mind to leave an animal they're abandoning in a cardboard box that will assumedly keep it safe?"

"Beats me." Randall shrugged. He'd already found a newspaper and was speaking from behind it. "Prolly some bastard kid with a drugged-up hooker mommy in a small apartment who wouldn't let him keep the only friend he ever had."

"This town is too boring to have hookers." Dante deadpanned as he rolled up his pant leg.

"No." Randall turned a page. " _You_ are."

Dante offered a stubborn silence as he applied Bactine to the wound and grit his teeth while it hissed. He was all band-aided up a moment later, though he was sure he wouldn't be able to sleep on his side for days. He stared at the little, fuzzy, black thing that had invaded his world and balled his fists as he limped towards where they kept their very meager selection of pet supplies.

Puppy Chow. Good enough.

Dante walked back as well as he could and emptied the shallow take-a-penny-give-a-penny tray into the cash register before filling it with the stuff. He picked the kitten out of the box and placed it in front of the bowl, scratching its ears gently as he addressed his friend.

"Randall, throw this catshit-infested box into the alley."

"Aw, c'mon, man!" Randall dipped down his newspaper to glare at his friend. "It's not like he was out in front of _my_ door!"

"Yeah, well, it's not like I can keep the thing!" Dante said in a whisper-yell that he hoped wouldn't scare the poor animal. "I have a dog at home!"

"I have a mom at home." Randall shot back. "That, I believe, is far worse."

"No, that's just _sad_." Dante corrected him.

They were both silent a moment.

Randall shrugged.

"We could keep him in the store."

"Right," Dante rolled his eyes as the kitten purred, "like that's ever going to pan out."

\---

"Fuck, man." Jay nodded his head as he followed Silent Bob's lead back towards the front of the video rental store. "I never knew cats could get high off their asses 'till our man Brodie showed us this catnip shit at the mall."

Bob's trenchcoat swished with a light shrug as Jay twirled around spontaneously and slapped his palms together.

"S'fuckin' cat _weed_ , man! I wonder if they have tiny-ass pipes-smokin' like-" The stoner made some futile attempt to emulate the way a paw would hold a miniature blunt to one's mouth. He failed. "-like _crazy_ , man, fuckin' crazy!" He paused, thoughtful. "Man, I should take a shot o' that kitty weed!"

Bob, however, had stopped in his tracks. Jay peered into his friend's face, frowning as he snapped his fingers in front of the shorter man's eyes.

"What's wrong, man? Havin' one of those eclectic seizures or shit?"

Silent Bob pulled his head back and gave his friend a look that was incredulous and disgusted all at once. He motioned to the front of RST and Jay, once again, followed his lead.

The stoner stared, then yelled.

"Mother fuckin' _clerks_!" He raised his arms before throwing them back down again. "Stole my fuckin' _pussy!_ "


End file.
